Good Samaratin
by nicoironfistsaintchapman
Summary: Just a quick oneshot I made a while ago about Michael slipping into old habits. Guess I thought it was a cool idea at the time.


"Good Samaritan" One shot GTAV

Nighttime was approaching fast over the city of Los Santos, and Michael De Santa himself was just leaving Richards Majestic from a long stressful day of shooting. The security guard apparently couldn't get the picture since Michael constantly reminded him that he was his boss. Of course Michael wielding a baseball bat probably didn't help the guard remember seeing as how he always gave him blunt trauma to the head. This time Michael was too overstressed to bother with the security guard, his actors were some of the worst he ever worked with, hell he'd rather just put Trevor in the movie if he wasn't such a hipster and hated movies. He could have put Franklin in if he wanted to, but he's been making moves purchasing properties all over the LS and Blaine County area, tied in with the street races, flight school of all things, and various other activities, Michael had no choice but to contract actors like Milton McElroy, whom is still fearful of Michael in general, and Jimmy Boston, who he isn't under good terms with after the problems Michael caused with the Epsilon program.

Solomon was his only stress relief of the day, but even this day he wasn't agreeing to the terms of surrendering how miserable he felt. The drive home felt longer than usual, but he saw the familiar figure of his son riding his bicycle up the hill as he and Jimmy pulled into the driveway at the same time. Michael sat in the car for a moment and let Jimmy jog on past him after dropping the bike. Some of his family routines from before he felt like he missed, sure at times they hated talking to each other, but he and Amanda had definitely worked through their issues. He at least tried acknowledging Tracey at times to speak about college, but she never answered back. I guess if she never has anything nice to say to me she probably won't say it. Michael's typical hidden thoughts about his daughter, but Jimmy on the other hand Michael tried not to bother much seeing as how they did things together frequently, including Righteous Slaughter. Michael took a deep breath in and got out of the car and announced his presence to his family as per usual. "It was a tough day at the office thanks for asking." He said with sarcasm.

"Ugh, kale is so disgusting. This is supposed to be healthy and not look healthy right?" He could hear Tracey ask somebody, most likely Amanda. Michael rounded the corner, but only saw Tracey standing by herself looking down at the cup of green ooze. "Hey Trace!" Michael greeted his daughter. He knew he didn't need to expect an answer. "Hey daddy." Wait a minute what? Michael turned around to face Tracey and she was still contemplating drinking the ooze. "I said I'm trying mom! I never said I'd completely stop!" He could hear Jimmy speak to Amanda. "You wait until your father sees this!" Amanda yelled back at Jimmy. Michael sighed and tried to find his whiskey again, he had put it up for so long, but now just seemed like the right time to do it. He contemplated getting the stinging liquid again, seeing as he had been sober for a long while, even before the Union Depository gig. "Michael. Look what our son James has had under his bed!" Amanda tossed the small bag lightly in front of where Michael poured the first glass.

He looked at the small bag of pot, clearly most of it was gone, but there was still enough left that Jimmy could salvage it for another two weeks. "He's been smoking pot again. After he promised us he wouldn't anymore." Amanda explained. "So if Jimmy is allowed to smoke pot again, could I try out for porn again?" Tracey asked. Michael held his hands just above the counter in a "What the hell?" gesture. "Tracey you're already in college baby." Amanda said. "Look it was just a little bit of pot okay?" Jimmy pleaded. Michael downed his first drink instantly. "That is clearly a bag that was filled to the brim and pouring the stuff out! That is not a little bit of pot." Amanda explained. "Yeah Jimmy get it right." Tracey said as Michael poured another glass and downed it again. He could hear the family argument through his clouded state and he soon just took his leave from the house as his family went silent behind him. He got back in his car and slowly drove off to God knows where. His phone started to ring and he saw the caller ID was Amanda and he rejected the call. He set the destination for Vespucci Beach on his GPS as nightfall was already here, and the creatures of the night would be out and about.

Michael clouded his common sense with the whiskey he had forgotten about for a seemingly long time and made it to Vespucci. He looked around for a willing and ready lust demon on Vespucci, and waited until one of them was willing to come over. He soon saw one he hadn't seen around the general Los Santos area before, usually he saw some of them try and blend in around town, but he hadn't seen this one before. She had dark red hair so long that she had to tie it up and still had hair dangling to her back. She wore a torn denim jacket and a brassiere being held together by a clip of some kind. Daisy dukes and leggings along with fake leather boots were used as her bottoms. She walked over to Michael's car and bent over in the window. "Looking for a good time?" She asked clearly high as a kite. "Yeah…" Michael said plainly. She slowly walked around the front bumper of the car dragging her forefinger along as she did. She moved into the passenger seat so smoothly it seems like she had plenty of experience.

"Let's go somewhere quiet…" She said smoothly. Michael knew the end of the beach was not too crowded even in the daytime and he decided to drive there. "So. Where are you from?" Michael asked. The prostitute looked at him in question. "Depends who's doing the asking." She said. "Just wondering. You definitely aren't from around here." Michael said matter of fact. "I'm primarily from the outskirts of Liberty City, but I consider myself a Vice City girl." She said. "Got a name?" Michael asked. The prostitute was still questioning herself on this. "People just call me sugar tits. Because I am sweet, but also bad for you." She said coolly. Michael quickly looked over to her as he almost thought he heard Trevor when she said sugar tits. He stopped at the spot as she went through her usual routine. She pulled out her purse, too many holes in it to count, as she took out some lipstick. She dropped the purse in the middle of the seats accidentally as she quickly recovered her things. Michael looked over to what she was doing as he had second thoughts about this, but something quickly caught his eye.

It looked like a photograph of her, but somewhat younger looking, and with a small girl as well. Michael couldn't believe what he was seeing, this woman had a daughter, and this was about to happen. "So. 25, 50, or 100?" She asked. "Who's the little girl?" Michael asked her trying to remain calm. "Nobody. Don't worry about it." The prostitute said quickly. "I know you're lying. She's your daughter isn't she?" Michael asked. "What does it matter?" The woman asked defensively. "Because you shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be doing this either. You have to take care of your daughter." Michael said. "She's fine on her own, the girl is eight years old and can handle a weapon." The woman said. "You think that will make a difference if somebody busts down her door? What if it's the police that comes knocking to take her away and throw you in jail? Huh? What then? How would you live with that?" Michael asked raising his voice.

"It's the only way I can make a living here! What about you? Don't think the wedding band isn't the first thing I noticed, because I did. I know you are married, and I bet you have kids as well. Isn't that what being a parent is about? Doing whatever it takes to make your kids futures better? Even if it means whoring yourself or robbing banks or something, I do what I do because it is what I am good at, and I make plenty of money." She explained. "Is it enough for a good living?" Michael asked as this brought her back a little bit. Michael thought for a moment as well and reached in the back for an item in the back of the car. "What are you doing?" She asked. Michael then took out a black briefcase, completely unmarked, and newly bought. He opened it and glanced over it for a little while. "Look, I don't normally do something like this." Michael began as the woman slid her back towards the door and readied her hidden knife. "But in this briefcase is about three quarter of a million dollars. I want you to take this money, and get yourself a decent living. Buy a nice house for you and your daughter, buy yourself some good clothes, decent transportation if you can, but take this money and do well with it. I'd also recommend the stock market and finding a decent job as well. Use the money wisely." Michael finished. "I don't know what to say." She said.

"Don't say… Do. Whatever it takes in this world, survive, everything else is bullshit, but I don't need anymore contact with you after this." Michael explained. The prostitute exited the car with the briefcase as she tapped on the glass again. "Thank you. What was your name again?" She asked. "Michael. Wouldn't remember my name if I were you though unless you end up in one of my films. You forget a thousand things everyday; make sure this is one of them." Michael said as she nodded and Michael drove off. The woman stood there for another moment before she walked back to where she parked her car. She heard another vehicle pull up behind her as the person exited and walked towards her. "He didn't do it, have sex with me I mean, and he didn't suspect a thing." She said to the person behind her.

"Even the sugar tits line didn't get him?" The rough voice asked. "Guess not. Well you got what you asked for mister, and we should probably go our separate ways." She said. She got in her clunker of a car and put the briefcase in the passengers seat. The man bent down to her level in the car and looked at her. "You got the information you needed Trevor. Can I take my leave? I need to see my daughter." The woman said to Trevor. "He didn't touch you in any way? He didn't cheat?" Trevor asked. "He had a change of heart." She said. "So I am guessing his heart is in that bag then right." Trevor stated more than asked. "Goodbye Trevor." She said as she slowly drove off.

Trevor stood in place and finally walked back to his truck. "Guess you still do have a heart you old bastard." Trevor said to himself. Trevor then received a text he expected hours ago from Ron, but it wasn't Ron it was Michael. "By the way T. I know you sent her to me, but that doesn't change the fact I wanted to help her. Sugar tits. Thought you'd get away with it right? That girl will move on to a better life because of me. –Michael" Trevor couldn't believe what he saw, but he could have suspected Michael would have gone detective mode like that, spending time with the FIB and all. "Cheeky fuck." Trevor said as he walked, got in his truck, and sped off to Sandy Shores.


End file.
